Supernatural and Little Mentions of Pie
by Thatsjusttoobad
Summary: Sam and Dean go to Idaho to hunt a ghost that haunts an outhouse. Of course, Dean wants pie too.


Hello! This is my first fanfic that I've ever written. Originally, this was written for an English class but afterwords I decided to turn it into this. Comments and Reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thanks very much!

Alex and his friends, Jake and Damian, burst out of the woods and onto a beautiful beach connecting to a small lake. Panting hard, the boys each exchanged looks of excitement. A moment later, they burst out laughing.

Jake was the first to speak, "Ok, Damian, you're absolutely brilliant." Damian looked proud and Jake continued, "Lets go swimming before the we go back to get Luke." The three boys took off their shirts, shoes, and socks, then ran off the dock with three enormous splashes.

* * *

The sky was turning a dark shade of purple before Alex's group decided to get back to the campsite. On their way back they had to rescue Alex's little brother, Luke, - an annoying little brother that had no friends of his own because he was always following Alex and his friends around - from an out house that was supposedly, haunted. Damian had come up with that idea earlier that same morning.

Damian was the member of the group that came up with all the plans and pranks. His forte was haunted places. As a child, his father told him stories and Damian had remembered one of the horror stories his father had told him and its location was not far from where they were staying.

Back in the '50's, there was a group of boy scouts that decided it would be funny to make a child spend the night in an old, never been used before, outhouse. The child was in the outhouse for no more than 10 minutes before he started crying and begging to be let out. Of course the scouts would not let him go free; they thought it was funny. Eventually, however, the boy scouts wanted the child to be quiet so they wouldn't be caught. So, they went and found a rock light enough that only one person could carry it, but heavy enough that it would at least knock out the blubbering child. One scout climbed up to the top of the outhouse and another handed the rock up to him. The boy at the top raised the rock above his head and dropped it through the weak roof. Immediately the child stopped making any sort of racket, so the boy scout group went back to their campsite.

In the morning, the group of boys at the outhouse that night went to go retrieve the child before anyone noticed he was gone. When they got to the outhouse the door was stuck and it took the entire group to push it open. The door finally swung open and every boy standing there was horror struck. The rock not only killed the child, but his head was bashed in at the top and the child's jaw was at least six inches away from his face.

Now, almost 50 years later, there was a legend that the child killed by those boy scouts haunts a new outhouse built right over the top of the old one. Legend goes: if you go to use that outhouse, a rock will bash your head in.

Of course Damian didn't believe that any of this was true and came up with the plan. Alex, Damian, and Jake were going to take Luke and lock him in the outhouse until the end of the day so the three older boys could have some time of their own.

They started running from the beach back to the outhouse. Alex was the first to get there and when he arrived, surprise smacked him. The door to the outhouse stood ajar and Luke was lying on the ground dead, tricking blood onto the dirt outside.

Alex nearly fainted. Not only because of the sight of his brother dead, but he saw what killed him. Right before the other two boys came running up behind him, Alex saw a ghost of a boy scout from the 1950's and he knew what killed his brother.

* * *

Dean and Sam stood silently as they watched the corpse burn. Almost five whole minutes of silence almost drove Andrew insane so he spoke first.

"Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Lets go."

"Right." Sam said, turning to face away from the burning corpse, then strode back to the car. Soon with Dean in tow.

The two brothers broke free of the cemetery gates and strolled back to their 1967 Chevy Impala. It was a beautiful black car given to Dean from his father. Dean soon had the car started and the two demon hunters were speeding down an old mountain road back to some shanty old motel.

* * *

In a cafe a week later, Sam sat on his crappy laptop looking for another hunt and classic Dean was hitting on the gorgeous young waitress.

"Get her number yet?" Sam said mockingly, trying to sound like he couldn't care less as Dean slouched back to their table.

"No, she won't give it up." Dean said slightly annoyed and held up a slip of paper that said (555)555-5555 then promptly tore it into shreds.

Chuckling at Dean's player fail with that girl, Sam told Dean about a possible hunt they might have in Idaho.

"Idaho… Really?" Dean said as they climbed back into the car.

"Yes. Idaho. Really" Sam said in an I-am-so-done-with-your-crap sort of tone.

"I don't even know where that is."

"Ha! Says the person who constantly 'road trips' across the US. We've been to Oregon. Just go there and take a right."

Almost nothing else was said for the first 100 miles of the journey. Partly because Sam slept most of the way and Dean didn't want to finish their conversation about not knowing where Idaho was. He knew it would lead to him also admitting that while Sam slept, he got lost. A lot. It was bad enough already having to admit one time that he was scared of flying, but he would never ever admit that he was also the worst navigator the planet earth had ever known.

* * *

As the sun finished setting, the door to room 221b flew open, denting the wall with the handle. A loud shatter could be heard coming from the bathroom almost simultaneously and a moment later, that door burst open too.

"Jesus christ Dean! I just broke the sink!"

"Yeah, well it's not my fault that you're a jumpy little baby."

"Shut up. What was that all about anyways? I've never heard a more angry/violent door opening in my life."

"Sorry man. I just…" Dean's voice trailed off. He didn't want to say out loud that he had gotten in - yet another - bar fight.

"Just what?" Sam tried to sound as threatening as he could. "You know what? Nevermind about that, but why are you so violent all the time? I bet you couldn't go an entire week being non-violent."

A smile slowly spread across Dean's face. He could never turn down a bet.

"You're on man. I win - you get me pie. I lose… well, we'll figure that out when we never get there."

They shook hands and Sam asked if Dean had found out anything about the case.

"Yeah, actually, the guy who runs the horse camp in Stolle Meadows told me the local legend about the ghost in the outhouse."

Dean told Sam the story of the boy scout murders from the '50's and when he finished Sam told him that he had found a pattern in the killings.

"Every eight years, anyone who uses that outhouse gets a rock dropped on them."

"Yeah, ok, but why eight years?"

"I donno. The child was probably that old."

* * *

Jake peeked out the puke-pink curtains and exhaled the breath that he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Guys," He started "They're here." No more words were needed to make three college age guys more scared. They opened up the curtains and tried not to look stressed.

Damian opened the door slowly at the sound of Sam's knuckles hitting the wood three times. "H-hello?" Damian said at almost a whisper.

"Hi, we're from the police department." Dean said with his award winning smile.

The Winchester's were wearing their black suits, but Dean couldn't find his dress shoes and ended up wearing worn out sneakers. Sam was watching Jake eyeballing the tattered old shoes with a hint of disbelief in his eyes about the policemen act.

"Oh god." It was everything Alex could do to stop himself from yelling at them, but he couldn't keep his voice from having a nervous crack. "We didn't kill him, I swear to Jesus."

Sam looked at him questioningly and reassured the boys that the two "cops" didn't think that they had killed Luke. "We're just here to ask some questions." Sam finished.

* * *

Dean pulled the car up onto the lake beach. The brothers immediately went to the arsenal in the trunk and began to load up on salt guns and Dean grabbed the EMF detector.

After the old fashioned sibling argument of 'Who got to be lucky enough to go in first', Sam was pushed into the outhouse.

"Dude, I don't even know how a ghost and a person could fit in here." Sam said from inside the outhouse. After a moment too long of silence, he came back out to see where Dean was but the door was stuck shut. Sam started yelling for Dean when he heard the ghost behind him.

Turning around, he saw a small boy in an old boy scout uniform. The boy's head was bleeding and most of his skull was gone, and he was also missing most of his lower jaw. If the ghost had had more of a jaw, his mouth would have been stringed up in a twisted smile. The boy looked up, prompting Sam to also slowly look up right at a blood stained rock. Sam's eyes widened in horror and he shot salt right at the boy. Instantly, the ghost disappeared and Sam fell through the door right on top of Dean.

Sam rolled off his older brother and a brief moment of silence, Dean questioned, "You alright, man?"

* * *

As Jake was hanging up his cell phone, he walked briskly into the main room of the small house.

"Guys, I just got off the phone with the officers, they said they went up to that lake. They said that -" Jake stopped suddenly and looked at the sober faces his two roommates.

"They said what, Jake?" Alex said in an amazingly calm tone, given the circumstance. Jake cleared his throat and softly said "They need us to get to the lake ASAP."

* * *

Sam and Dean sat in a large salt circle on the beach as they waited for the others to arrive. Dean was drawing in the sand with his finger and Sam was lying starfish style staring at the clouds. Sam sat up so abruptly that Dean's instincts kicked in and he almost punched Sam, but he remembered their bet just in time.

"Dean! I just thought of something really bad!" Sam said, eyes wide with enchantment and horror.

"You look a little too happy to be thinking about bad things. Wipe that goofy smile off your face before I do it for you." Dean told him, looking back at his sand drawings without breaking eye contact with the ground.

"Those three guys said they didn't bring back Luke's body, but guess what we didn't find." Sam explained trying not to look too enthusiastic about his gruesome discovery.

As he said this, an old, dumpy, 1970's pickup pulled onto the shore of the lake. One, two, then three college boys hopped out, all with a hint of panic on their faces.

"You wanted us?" The Winchester's heard Damian shout from across the way.

"Yeah,"Sam shouted back at them, rising to his feet with sand sprinkling off of his jeans, "we were wondering if you could show us where you put Luke's body."

Alex immediately ran over to where they were sitting and told them that they left him in the outhouse.

"And what's with all the salt?" Alex said eyeing the salt circles in the sand and the large bags of salt sitting near where Dean had been sitting. Dean answered this with a wave of his hand. "Doesn't matter." he said. "What matters right now is that you tell us where you put Luke's body and where that child from the '50's was buried."

"We didn't touch or move Luke at all!" Jake exploded. After regaining his senses, he continued, "But we know that the child wasn't buried, he was cremated."

"Oh well thats just great isn't it, Sammy!" The way Dean said this was so overdone, the three college boys could almost smell the sarcasm. Sam gave him a sharp look as if to say, "Not in front of the public," but Dean didn't see him and stormed back to the car to get the matches and gasoline.

"Hey! Dean! Where are you going?" Sam called after him. When he didn't answer, Sam knew something was up and took off after him. Alex, Jake, and Damian exchanged looks of curiosity and after a moment, they too went to follow the hunters.

* * *

When he reached the car, Dean immediately started loading up gas and matches but he didn't need to grab anymore salt. They had already bought three bags down to the beach.

He was almost at the point of a nervous breakdown. He had spent six out of seven days being non-violent and he'd had enough. As Dean was contemplating just getting in the car and driving to the nearest bar, a the loud crack of a stick breaking went off behind him. He turned around and pointed his gun at his potential attacker.

Sam threw his hands in the air as Dean put a gun right up against his chest. and told him not to shoot. Lowering the gun, Dean turned back around and picked up the items he had gathered, then swaggered back to where the outhouse was located.

At the moment the other three arrived, flames went up in the wood and an odd gush of unnaturally cold wind blew hard on their faces, blowing back Sam's hair. After the brief gust of random wind, Sam flipped his hair back into place and he too swaggered back to the outhouse area.

Sam started, "What the fu-"

"Watch your language man, remember what the Pagan god said?" Dean interrupted him with a half chuckle and a glamorous smile.

"What did you do that for?" Sam retorted as rudely as he possibly could.

"Well, the child's body was cremated and so there had to be something keeping him here. I figured that his soul was attached to the outhouse so I salted and burned it."

"Yeah, but-"

"But what, Sammy? I don't have time for this. I just want to get back to the motel where I don't have the potential to punch someone just for glancing at me."

"No, didn't you feel that wind when you burnt it? It was freezing cold and it's the middle of July."

"Shit."

And at that, Dean ran out of the trees and onto the sand. Sam couldn't see him once he burst out of the trees, but he knew something was terribly wrong and went sprinting after him with three college boys in tow.

Dean was half lying, half sitting, half trying to rip his limbs off. He was smiling nastily and singing at the top of his voice "Dream Police". Sam ran over to him and as he was crouching down to try to comfort his older brother from his breakdown, Sammy saw the impossible. He stood up abruptly and leaped over Dean's slowly twisting body.

The ghost was holding a rock above his head and smiled down menacingly at Dean's now limp body.

Flying through the air in an epic leap, Sam had to think fast. He grabbed the rock from the child's hands and as he did this, the ghost disappeared. Sam tried to do the best safety roll he could as he skidded across the sand, but it was awkward holding the rock and he ended up just skinning his face on the rough sandy ground.

The three boys stood with looks of shock, horror, confusion, and amazement.

Sam stood up, brushed himself off, and wiped his hand across his face to get an estimate on how bad his injury was. Damian was the first to speak after this show of the hunter's badass-ness.

"That. Was possibly the coolest thing I've seen - and will probably ever see - in my entire life."

Sam didn't answer. Shaking his head, he flipped the rock over to reveal a blood stain that had to be at least 50 years old. As he saw this, Sam half ran back to where Dean had left the matches and salt. Sam looked back at Dean's unconscious mass laying in a heap on the ground and asked the three friends if they were coming or not.

Slowing to a halt, Sam threw the rock on the ground and began to pour gasoline and salt all over the blood sain. When Jake asked him what in the arena of great big bowling balls he was doing, all Sam said was, "Blood counts as human remains."

Alex turned away as Sam threw a match on the blood stained rock. He screeched with the most unmanly tone possible and the others whipped around to look at what Alex was looking at. Sam saw something he'd never seen a ghost do before and he'll never see a ghost do again.

Right before the ghost disappeared into flames, then into nothing, the three college friends and the one demon hunter saw the child's face glistening with tears. They watched him mouth 'thank you'. Then, he was gone.

* * *

Thirty miles over the speed limit on highway 17, the two demon hunters sat in silence. After what seemed to be an hour, Dean finally spoke.

"You owe me pie."

"I don't owe you anything. I think you owe me a thanks for saving your butt."

"Yeah, whatever. A deal is a deal and you owe me pie."

"So, we're not gonna talk about what happened with your little breakdown on the beach back there?"

"Sammy, nothing happened. I almost couldn't bear the non-violent crap anymore."

"Right, ok."

After another ten minutes of dead silence, Sam finally told Dean what he'd been thinking ever since he watched his brother freak on the shore.

"Sometimes change is good, but it isn't always good to go against your nature."

"I guess you're right Sammy… I guess you're right."

And with these last few words, Sam leaned his head against the window and sank into a long overdue nap and Dean pressed down harder on the accelerator.


End file.
